Talent Showdown
by MolonLabe 300
Summary: Entry for the Final Round of Phinbella16's FanFiction's Got Talent. A few years on, Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella are now in high school, and are thriving; all three intend on joining a major Talent Show. But Phineas undergoes a mental struggle over whether or not to publicly enter a relationship with Isabella, whilst Isabella is receiving escalating threats. How will they cope?
1. The Challenge

**My entry to Phinbella16's Fanfiction's Got Talent Competition. This will be a multi-chapter story, and is also part of the Grand Night Out universe.**

**Please read and review.**

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any part of the original franchise, which belongs to Disney Corp, founded by Mr. Povenmire and Mr. Marsh. The author is not making a single cent out of this story or any others on this site.**

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Chapter 1: The Challenge

_May 22nd_

_Dear Pinky,_

_I've missed you a lot. Ever since that car accident, things haven't really been the same without you. But at least you're up there somewhere. I know you're probably watching up there and know everything I'm going to say, but I'm still going to tell you. _

_Phineas and me have been a couple for almost four years now! Of course, we haven't told anyone about it yet. We don't know when we'll tell everyone, but really, all the people who need to know already suspect or know, like Ferb, Baljeet, and Buford; don't forget Mom and Dad, and Mr. and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher. Do you think I'll be Isabella Flynn or Isabella Flynn-Fletcher?_

_Anyways, Phineas and Ferb have been busy. Their patented inventions have gotten them billions of dollars, and they've practically graduated college! They've taken dozens of college graduation papers and tests, and gotten record scores! And yet, they still have plenty of time to be nice to people and to help others, spend time and have fun with the old gang, and take me out for sundaes every Sunday after church. Not only that, they take part in sports teams and taking up leadership roles in clubs. They could have gone out and started actual careers by now, making even more money; but they still choose not to leave school, staying in our class all this while._

_Next week is examination week; I'm pretty nervous, but Baljeet and Phineas have been helping me, and I think I'll be able to get an A on all the subjects. After that is another week for graduating seniors, and then summer vacation, and even more time with Phineas!_

_Got to go now, Jeremy and Candace are here to drive us to the game. My cheerleader uniform is actually pretty draughty, but tonight's going to be packed, so I think I'll be fine.__  
_

_Isabella_

_P.S. Do you think people realise I keep a diary?_

* * *

"Hey, Buford! Nice game last night!"

"Thanks, man. But pretty much the entire game can be given to Ferb." Buford shrugged. "He basically scored all our points."

Phineas chuckled. "Well, he _is_ your quarterback."

"Some quarterback! He took a straight-up tackle in the face, and he just, like, _shrugged _him off!"

Ferb smiled, recalling the incident. The green-haired boy was no longer as skinny as he was when he was eleven years of age. Four years had granted him increased height; he was now over seven feet, and he weighed in at about 400 lbs by now. That weight came not from fat but from massive muscles and dense bones, which he had honed over the past few years. Most importantly, whether dribbling and shooting basketballs or soccer balls, throwing footballs, or practicing various martial arts, he had been extremely talented even as a 9-year-old, and matched that talent with practice. Countless colleges had offered him scholarships, to which he declined, reminding them that he was still a freshman in high school.

So, the night before, when the offensive lineman had tackled him… he may as well have tackled an elephant, for all the good it did him.

The green-haired inventor's only rival in size came from Buford, who had lost most of his fat and had gained in its stead muscle. However, the former bully's speed did not come close to Ferb's, and neither did his throwing distance and accuracy. Not that he needed those in his position; whenever the coach called for a hole in the enemy line, the hole tended to resemble a garage door.

Ferb's truck had been specially designed to allow special leg room for both football players; not only that, it had been designed to be able to seat many more people. With Phineas, Isabella, Baljeet, Ginger, Gretchen, Adyson, Mark, and Irving in the back, all seats were taken up; yet, everyone had room to spare, even with all the added amenities. Ferb carefully eased the car into the school parking lot, then he pulled the brakes and unlocked the doors.

"Alright, guys, we're here!"

* * *

"Alright, class! Examination week is next week, and today and tomorrow are your last days to review! Most of you have studied hard over the past year, and so today, we'll be playing Jeopardy for review!"

Mr. Torian was a tall, lanky man with glasses, who was in his early twenties. While he was an utter expert in his field of history and economics, he was loud, boisterous, friendly to the extreme, and he had a knack for making his lessons interesting, yet informative. Most of the freshmen agreed that he was their favourite teacher, due to the candy dispenser, foosball table, and coffee machine, not to mention the relatively free class protocols, which focused on respect and keeping the classroom relatively clean rather than strict formalities.

"Alright, you guys already know your jeopardy teams! Let's begin in three, two, one-"

"_Hello, Students!" _A cheerful voice rang out on the intercom, one that belonged to a female Student Council leader.

Mr. Torian sighed. "Never mind, wait for her to finish."

"_I know you're all studying hard for the final examinations! But what about afterwards? Well, the Student Council is holding a school-wide Talent Show on the last day of Graduation Week! Just one last school activity before the end of the school year. So, if you have a special talent, sign up by tomorrow, and the Friday after next, prepare to showcase it to the school! If you know anyone who would like to come, admission is free for everybody in Danville, and the event will be held in the the school auditorium! That will be all, fellow students! Student Council, out!"_

The classroom began buzzing with excitement. Mark began talking to the former Baljeatles, who had been conveniently placed in the same group as him, and they quickly formulated a plan. Django began thinking about what violin solos he could play, and Irving began asking if anyone needed a Soundboard expert. Isabella turned to the rest of those at her table. "Alright, Fireside Girls! We can do this!"

Adyson raised an eyebrow. "Isabella, we're not Fireside Girls any more, not for an entire year."

"True, but that's irrelevant. Girls! Are we ready!"

Gretchen, Ginger, Adyson, Holly, and Milly nodded and smiled. "YES, WE-"

"_Lorem ipsum, SILENTIUM!" _

The class quietened down as Mr. Torian raised an eyebrow, standing at his full height and wearing a replica centurion helm. "Why is it people listen to Latin, even if they actually don't understand a word?" The tall teacher chuckled. "At any rate, guys, remember that class is still going on. Today's agenda will be very relaxed, but I still expect you not to talk while I, or another student, speak to the class as a whole, and to otherwise try not to raise your voices." He turned on the 3-D image projector. "Alright, the first question will be a toss-up; anybody who thinks they know the answer can raise their hand, and the first team to get it right gets to go first. 3, 2, 1, begin!"

* * *

Isabella and Gretchen walked down the hallway, talking excitedly. "You wanna be main singer?"

Gretchen shook her head. "No, Chief, you're much better at that role. How 'bout we meet tomorrow morning to write some lyrics?"

"Sure, make sure others know-"

An outstretched foot tripped Isabella. "Others know _what_?"

"Isabella!" Gretchen reached to help the raven-haired girl up, but was grabbed into an armlock she couldn't break.

Gunther and five of his cronies grabbed the two of them, and dragged them into a dark, secluded corner. "Others know _what, _Dorkabella?"

"She's not a dork!" That earned Gretchen a punch under the ribs.

Isabella was terrified of the tattooed, black-haired boy. Gunther and his friends had been held back from his sophomore year by their pathetic grades and unsociable tendencies. There were rumours that their gang had been in a drugged stupor during the exam week, but they were only rumours, to the great regret of most of the students and faculty… and rumours they would stay, as would the information that he kept several knives on him, and had used them violently before.

He had spent the entire year jealous and hateful towards Isabella and her friends, but had only revealed it to the former Fireside Girls, whom he disdained for their intelligence, morals, and friendliness… not to mention their ability to work together and perform better gymnastics for the cheerleading team. He wouldn't have been caught dead threatening of the boys in the class, though; even Baljeet could summon up more guts than he could. But what Gunther and his friends _could_ do was frighten all the girls in the class… even Isabella.

"Why do you want to know, Gunther?" Isabella frantically looked around for other students passing by, but it seemed as if everyone had gone to lunch.

"Well, are you and your group of dorks going to be in the Talent Show two weeks from now?"

"That's not your business!" Gretchen took a knee to her belly.

Isabella shook her head at the spectacled girl. "Gretchen, be quiet!"

"Yeah, _Gretchen_, be quiet!" The other five boys laughed. _Idiots_, Isabella thought.

"Well, me and my friends are signing up. And if you punks try to beat us-" Gunther cracked his knuckles.

Isabella was beyond fear now. She sat up, and looked at Gunther in the eye. "You'd still lose even if we didn't try, so what's stopping us from performing?"

"Whaddya _mean_, we'll lose?!" The big, tattooed boy hoisted her up and shoved her back to the ground. "For that, you'll _get_ it!" The six boys closed in and began kicking Isabella and Gretchen's bellies. Gunther pulled out her switchblade. "Let's see what kind of smile we can give you, shall we?" And he would have found out, were it not for a yell. "Ai, wha' be 'appening?"

Gunther's eyes widened, and he and his cronies sprinted away as fast as they could. Just before leaving, he whispered in Isabella's ear: "You tell anybody it was us, and you'll _get_ it." And then he ran off after his friends, just before Isabella lost consciousness.

* * *

Slowly, the raven-haired girl felt her consciousness return, as did her sense of smell, which picked up the sterilised smell of a hospital. Her vision began to be less blurry, and then her hearing came back-

"You okay?"

Isabella started, and might have yelled, but then she realised where she was. She was lying in one of the private cots of the infirmary, next to Gretchen, who was still unconscious. Sitting on a stool next to her was Mark Campbell, a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, thank God, Mark. How did you-"

The lean, brown-haired Scot raised an eyebrow. "I found you and Gretchen unconscious, in a dark corner. Do you know who could have done this?"

Isabella might have told, but the memory of Gunther's switchblade, less than an inch from her face, came back to her, and she shook her head. "No, it was too dark… I couldn't see."

Mark didn't look like he believed her… but he nodded, accepting her answer. "Well, Phineas and Ferb were just alerted, and they'll be here shortly. An hour and a half for study hall right after lunch, so they won't be missing any class. Lie back, and get some rest."

Isabella did, lying back down on her cot. She closed her eyes and tried to fall back into sleep, but the memory of Gunther's knife and the beating he had given to her was still fresh in her mind… and when she did fall into sleep, he was there, a cruel smirk across his face as he marched into her nightmares.

* * *

Mark looked, saddened, at Isabella's sleeping form. _What kind of sick jerk would beat up a girl?_ he wondered. _Would even try?_

"对不起，小姐。你别怕，我会找到他." He closed his eyes, picturing a shadowy figure in his mind, a conduit for his anger. "And when I do… _Ne Obliviscaris_."_  
_

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**Thank you for reading this far; please tell me what you think and/or ask me questions through review or PM. Feel free to scroll back to the top and read it again, if you wish. Constructive Criticism encouraged, but, if you're a flamer, 去死！**


	2. The Threat

**I was pretty disappointed to only get one review; please, if you think this story needs work, let me know. Reviews are always welcome, as long as they're helpful.**

**Please read and review.**

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Chapter 2: The Threat

_[Password accepted. Welcome, Marcus.]_

Mark scrolled over to the icons, looking for the one he wanted. Mark saw that he was online, and selected his button.

Words began to scroll on the chat screen. _[Mark? Shouldn't you be in school__?]_

_{Lunchtime. How was your morning?}_

_[Same old, same old. Just foiling the usual scheme. What do you need?]_

_{I'm sending you a few files; read, and try to dig deeper.}_

Mark sent the anatomical analyses, photographs and blueprints of the area where he had found Gretchen and Isabella, and a list of students in the school.

_[This happened to _Isabella_?]_

_{Yup. Can you help?}_

_[Definitely. What kind of sick creature would do this to a pair of freshman cheerleaders? They're lucky they didn't break any ribs.]_

_{I know. Thanks for your help, Agent P.}_

_[You're welcome. And call me Perry.]_

* * *

Phineas crept into the infirmary slowly, where Mark was fiddling around on some device. "Hey, Mark."

"Oh, hey, Phineas." Mark's Scottish brogue cut through the silence, even as a whisper. "They're fine now; just bruises and sprains. They'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Thanks, man." Phineas turned his gaze over to Isabella. Four years since the roller-coaster, she had grown even more beautiful. Her skin was smooth, pale, and unmarked, and her raven locks were long, straight, and perfectly conditioned. She was fit and light on her feet with excellent balance, and she still possessed the strength from her Fireside Girl days, strength that came from leverage and quickness. She was thin, but not from under-eating; she ate healthily, and exercised regularly, keeping herself lean, thin, and quick. Despite her light build, she was curvaceous, with big, firm-

"Um, Phineas, that gaze looks kinda creepy, lad." Mark's face looked as if it might explode from all the withheld laughter.

"Er, yeah." Phineas shook himself free of his stare, but continued to look at Isabella. Her most striking feature by far, though, was her face; it possessed a sense of womanly maturity and a stunning, nigh-perfect shape, yet it still retained enough of a younger Isabella to remind him of all her cuteness as well. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Mark nodded. "Aye, lad. Do you know who could have done this?"

Phineas shook his head. "No, I don't… but if I find out…" Phineas gritted his teeth, feeling the anger almost boil over before he pushed it back down.

"Hm… alright. What do you think of that Gunther kid, hangs out in the back of the room?"

"Gunther?" Phineas shrugged. "I know he's a troublemaker, but to _hit a girl_? Would he really stoop that low?"

Mark kept his silence, and Phineas decided to let it drop. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"Had a sandwich." The lean Scot slid off the desk and stretched, yawning. "How're you getting on in classes?"

"Great; I think I've got exams in the bad," Phineas said. Mark nodded in response, before casting another look at Isabella and Gretchen's sleeping forms.

"What do you think about doing for Talent Show?"

Phineas shrugged. "Ferb and I were thinking about reuniting the Baljeatles… you said you wanted to help earlier. Do you play any instruments?"

"Bagpipes, organ, or I can run sound for you guys."

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, I think we'll need someone running Audio."

"Have you guys picked a song yet?" Mark picked a scar on his knuckles. "_Danger House_'s metal is pretty good… or, if you guys want something tamer, Gerald Donald's pop albums are the stuff of legend."

"I was thinking about an original song… one written by Ferb and I. Problem is, I'm completely out of ideas as to what might be in the song. Funny, I can think of a million things I wanna build this summer, but not a single song idea has crossed my mind."

"Well, sign-up lasts until tomorrow, when school gets out." Mark smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Alright…" Phineas sighed and looked back down at Isabella.

"You okay, laddie?"

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, just… I'd prefer to be alone."

"Suit yourself." Mark opened the door quietly, and then walked out of the sick bay.

* * *

"And… up!"

Ferb, veins bulging, face red, strained, lifting the barbell from his chest, fully extending his arms before fitting the weight back onto the rail. "How was that?"

"Great!" Buford smiled at him, tossing him a water bottle. "Ready for another one?"

Ferb shook his head. "Enough maxing for now."

He turned towards the corner of the gym, where Mark was laying into a punching bag. More accurately, several punching bags, all surrounding him, bouncing back as the Scot methodically pounded each one. Buford winced at the sound of every brutal impact that Mark made, before leaning down as Ferb whispered something into his ear. Buford turned back to Mark. "Yo! Mark! Ferb says that you're clenching up too early! Keep your movement fluid until just before impact."

"I hear you, Buford." Mark began to hit likewise, and found that, yes, Ferb's advice was effective.

Buford looked around in every direction, in case of eavesdroppers. "So, Ferb… how's the thing between Phineas and Isabella going?"

Ferb gave him a thumbs-up.

"Are they making it official?" Buford asked.

Ferb raised an eyebrow, prompting Buford to rephrase his question.

"Are they in a public relationship?"

Ferb shook his head, before taking a few sips from his water bottle.

"_Will_ they enter a public relationship?"

Ferb shrugged. Buford sighed, grabbing two huge dumbbells and pumping them with obvious ruefulness. "They should… I mean, look at her. There's no hotter or smarter girl in the entire school, and everyone knows it. How long before some jerk tries to make a move on her? Then there'll be another, then two more, and before you know it we'll have a horde of guys who want to date her. Some of which might not take no for an answer."

Ferb didn't need to be told what Buford was referring to. He had seen the news reports, had seen them ever since he had been eleven, watching the news every morning before Phineas woke up. "You think there are any boys like that in our school?"

"Most of them? No. But before long, we'll have rival schools come in for scrimmages, and concerts, and other shows where our sister schools come in. And I can't vouch for those other schools. And there _are_ some guys here who I trust as far as I can spit. That Gunther, for one." Buford sneered, a cruel look that told Ferb all he needed to know about Buford's opinion of Gunther. "The kid acts like he rules the world, but he has the intelligence of a brick, the temper of a bull and the strength of Baljeet… non-Hulk Baljeet, anyways."

Ferb nodded.

"At any rate, I heard about Gretchen and Isabella. Are they alright?"

"Yes, but they'll stay home tomorrow."

* * *

_The Next Day_

Isabella, still aching all over, lay in her bed, a few books by her bedside. She was about to take a nap in the lazy, afternoon warmth, when she was shaken awake by the sound of her phone ringing. The beautiful, cerulean-eyed girl groaned, and got up to answer it, but rubbed painfully against the bruises on her bare leg. She winced, slowly eased herself out of bed, and then padded, barefoot, over to her phone, straightening the big t-shirt she wore to sleep. "Hello?"

Ginger's cheerful voice chirped from the phone. "Hi, Isabella! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. What happened in class today?" Isabella eased on a pair of shorts, even though she couldn't think of a need for modesty.

"Just review. Oh, and I signed us up for the Talent Show! You ready for it?"

"Talent Show? Sure!" Isabella smiled. "So, I had this idea for a song, but I'll need your help to-"

And then, she remembered. _'If you punks try to beat us…' _She remembered the switchblade, the cold touch of the blade that had been so close to breaking the skin, to tearing into her delicate flesh and carving out her cheeks...

"Isabella? Are you alright?"

"I-I-I… I'm f-f-fine…" Isabella tried to regain control of herself, but she couldn't. She felt herself shudder uncontrollably, from the top of her shiny, brushed hair, and her beautiful, smooth face, so accustomed to smiles, along her slender, curvy frame, down to her thin, sleek legs and perfectly shaped bare feet. She felt cold where before she had felt warmth, and she had never before wanted so much just to crawl under a bed and sob. She turned her face out the window, to where, four years before, the accident had happened...

And then she saw him.

He was far, far away, slouching within his Porsche, glaring at her… but she wouldn't forget the look of Gunther's face, or the coldblooded sneer on his face. Isabella felt herself hang up the phone despite Ginger's protests, her gaze transfixed by that of the cruel, iron look on the bully's face. And then, she felt the phone buzz again. She raised it to her ear, shivering in fear. "Hello?"

"I know where you live."

Isabella looked closer, and she saw that Gunther was, indeed, holding a cellphone of his own to his ear.

"P-p-p-please… leave me _alone_…" Her first instinct was to tell someone, yell for her mother, call the police… but then she saw the other, cruel-looking men in the car with Gunther, and remembered his rich family, who pampered and spoiled him. They were possibly the only obstacle as to his expulsion from the school, and Isabella wished once more that she could just close her eyes, and she would wake up, and it would all be a dream...

But no. This was no dream. This was real. As was the cruel laugh over the phone.

"You little-" He said a word that drove an icy spike into Isabella's heart. "At the rate you're going, one day, they might just find your naked body with your throat cut, legs spread open wide and a scream on your throat, in an alley." He seemed to stop and think about the implication of his words. "And if you tell anybody we had this conversation… they _will_."

"O-o-okay…"

"You piss me off one more time… I know where you live. I see you in there; you looked so cute just now, yes you did. Don't want to let me find out more, do you?"

Isabella shook her head. "N-n-no…"

"Good. Now you know." And then the Porsche sped off and the call ended, leaving Isabella to collapse and huddle into a foetal position. Her bruises hurt from the rubbing, but she ignored the pain, drowning in her sheer terror. She had only once ever hid underneath the bed… yet, now she hid a second time, and Isabella could no longer hide the tears and sobbing, hoping her mother didn't come back from work soon enough to find her like this. Hoping that no one would ever find her like this.

She might have stayed that way forever, but for a familiar chattering. "Perry?"

The teal platypus hopped neatly from the windowsill. He huddled close to her, and she hugged him, her tears being soaked by the fur of the cute animal. "Come here, Perry… listen, okay? I can't tell anyone, not even Phineas. But I just want to tell someone, and, well, could you listen?"

Isabella could have sworn Perry nodded._ He can't, though… he's just a platypus, they don't do much._

"There's this kid in my class… called Gunther. Gunther Therington. He hates all the girls in my class…" Isabella found herself telling Phineas' pet platypus everything, which she found incredibly weird… yet, Perry's eyes were just so trusting, as if he was willing to listen and accept anything she said, that she continued on, until she reached the part about his threat. "Thanks for listening, Perry."

Perry chattered back at her and huddled closer, and she hugged him back before getting back onto her own bed and laying down with him. She soon felt warm and sleepy once more, Perry's warm presence reminding her of Pinky's, long ago, and then she fell into slumber. When she woke again, her fears would come for her once more, filling her with anxiety… but for now, she could feel brave and happy once more.

* * *

She could also feel brave for another reason, though… for a reason that she had no chance of being aware of.

Beneath Perry's fur, tough bones slid back and forth, held in place by joint and cartilage. Under the trim layer of fat that came from Mrs. Flynn's cooking were cord after cord of lean, powerful muscle. He knew each and every one of the poison permutations that he could emit through his spurs, sharp affairs that he had sworn never to bare unless against the worst scum of the criminal underworld. His body had marks, true, scars from healed damage, remainders from a long career of hard fighting… but such marks were few and far between, for Agent P of the OWCA was not one to be easily injured. The illustrious OWCA, long known for its self-deprecating title, was now known as the Omnifunctional Worldwide Coalition of Agents, a title that Perry himself had suggested to Major Monogram.

He opened up his keyboard, flipping open his messages. There was a notice from Agent T about several terrorists who had slipped past a recent raid on a terrorist cell, which had been quickly followed up by Agent E's message that she had sighted them, and then the message from the other Agent E involving how he had pummelled each of them unconscious with his trunk before dragging them back to personnel. Agent W had confirmed it, with his keen nose and excellent senses being a great asset for the Coalition. Perry continued to flip down, seeing a few messages from Doof, including a reminder to begin preparations for Vanessa's twentieth birthday party. He, however, continued down towards a set of messages from the day before. He selected it, and then typed in a message. As he typed it in, he felt his poison spurs begin to bare, his rage barely contained by his tiny form. He shoved away his anger, gave a hungry, hunter's smile, and then pressed _Enter_.

_[Mark. I have him.]_

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	3. The Question

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******I would also like to endorse the author ChipMuncher, who has shown his support in various ways and is an excellent writer.**

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Chapter 3: The Question

"Come on, what can we write a song about?" Phineas sighed and rolled around in his bed. Ferb looked over at his brother's tossing and tumbling form.

"Phineas, I think you should give it a rest. It'll probably come in the morning. Get some sleep, anyway; tomorrow's the first day of exams."

"Alright, Ferb, but I just can't sleep."

Ferb sat up in bed and turned towards Phineas, who sat up as well, bleary-eyed. "So, how are things going with you and Isabella?"

Phineas sighed. "I don't know… we haven't made it official yet, and we don't know if we should."

"You have to start somewhere…" Ferb scratched the back of his head.

"I know that, but, I mean, is it really a wise thing to start an official relationship this early? In high school?"

Ferb shrugged in response, massive shoulders rolling.

"I guess you're right, it's my decision… but it's also hers. And really, I'm not sure if she'll be ready for this. She's been _thinking_ that she's ready for it ever since we were six, but you and I know there can be a big difference between fact and opinion."

Ferb nodded to that, seeing nothing wrong in that logic. "Perhaps, though, it might be safer to do it… might keep off the secret admirers and stalkers, eh?"

"Yeah… speaking about stalkers, who do you think might be the guy who beat her up last Thursday?"

Ferb's mouth curled into a frown as he shrugged and shook his head. "I frankly have no idea."

"Well, I sure hope he gets his comeuppance."

* * *

_{You're sure this will do the job? High-level analgesia and nausea?}_

_[I would have added in some anti-coagulant, but I felt that would have been cruel.]_

_{Are you sure it's him?}_

_[Yes… but you'll still need to check him out. I've got a busy day tomorrow; Doofenschmirtz and Poofenplotz are teaming up again. Remember, no matter what you do to him, you want him to end up in jail. Hoist him by his own petard, if you can.]_

_{Sure, Chief.}_

_[You're technically older than me, Mark. Gotta go, Phineas is waking up for a drink. Good luck on exams.]_

* * *

Isabella, on the teacher's instructions, opened up her test booklet. _Which is not an e__ffect of the Bantu Migrations?_ She thought for a few seconds. _Agriculture for a certainty, tools a maybe… Definitely not Islam, too early for that. _She circled the bubble for the spread of the Islamic faith, before moving on to the next question.

In the table next to her, Baljeet began tearing through the test, finishing within a matter of minutes… but as he set down his pencil, he realised that he was utterly alone at his table. Ferb and Buford had already turned in their booklets, and were off to the side, setting up a game of chess… or it would be chess, but for Buford having brought out pieces for draughts and placed them on the board as if he were playing checkers. Phineas was seated next to them, a pencil in his hand as he scribbled on a piece of paper, brainstorming ideas.

Mark finished the examination within fifteen minutes, well after the four Baljeatles had turned their booklets in. He, however, waited on the last question, keeping his eyes on Gunther. The kid had always seemed strange, and perhaps even violent, but he had never shown any truly violent action to any of the boys in the class, or to any of the teachers. He looked, with his tattoos and possible hiding places for weapons, almost like an emo kid… but an emo kid with a Porsche, incredibly rich parents, as well as a constant group of non-student friends who followed him around the school. The teachers had often had to ask the non-students, all of whom looked like ruffians, to leave the campus, but never would any of those non-students mention Gunther's name while a teacher was around, so the surly boy always managed to evade blame… though almost every teacher in the school was wary of him and what he might do. Mark sighed, filled in the last bubble, and then turned in the booklet.

Isabella finished her history exam, turned it in, and then went to sit in the tables at the back, next to Phineas. "Can I ask you something, Phineas?"

"What?" His eyes looked into hers, and her eyes stared back, meeting like sky and sea at the horizon.

"If… If you ever wanted to know something from me, but I said I didn't want to answer, would I still have to answer."

Phineas shook his head fiercely. "No, Isabella. I would never force you to answer a question that you don't want to."

Isabella nodded. "Good."

Next to her, Mark pulled out an E-reader, or at least a device that looked like one, and began typing into it. Isabella couldn't see what was on the screen from her angle, but Mark's hands moved like a blur, rattling across the keyboard in a barrage of precisely aimed fingertips. The lean Scottish boy typed for a few more seconds, before closing the device and putting it back into an inside pocket on his jacket. Isabella realised just how tired she was; she had been unable to sleep the night before, from fear of closing her eyes and finding Gunther in her room when she awoke. Phineas, too, looked tired, and both of them quickly drifted off to sleep, leaning on each other as they fell into slumber.

* * *

It felt like only a few moments had passed when the bell started ringing, but Isabella guessed it must have been close to an hour. All the students finished turning in their booklets, and walked out the door, heading towards their next classes.

The six friends walked out of Mr. Torian's classroom, before Isabella had to go her own separate way.

Phineas waved to her. "Alright, Isabella; I'll see you in the class after next. We have a Calculus exam now; good luck with your Geometry exam!"

She waved back at him, before heading down the stairs, towards her locker, with Gretchen. "So, how well do you think you did on that one?"

"Hm… I think that the hardest part was definitely 1450-1750. All those political changes and stuff."

"Yeah, me-" Isabella's eyes turned towards her locker and widened. Sprayed on it, in blood-red paint, was a simple message: _I'm coming for you._

Most other students would have merely laughed and dismissed it as a joke, before calling the janitor to use state-of-the-art equipment to remove the paint with a few wipes. Isabella, though, shuddered inside, and quickly hurried to open her locker. As she finished keying in the combination, she realised that a note had fallen onto the floor. She picked it up, looked to see if anyone except for Gretchen was around, and read it out loud to her friend.

_Hey, Twerpabella_

_You think you're so smart, finishing early on the exam. Well, I'll show you._

_You go ask to get your names removed from the Talent Show listing, or else… you know what. And don't tell anyone._

The note was left unsigned, but both of them knew who it was from. Gretchen's eyes widened. "How did he… how did he get it in your locker? He just left the classroom!"

"He must have had it prepared… must have signalled someone to put in here, through the mail slot." Isabella was getting more scared by the minute. "Let's just… let's go to Geometry now, shall we?"

They ran as fast as they possibly could to Geometry class, shutting the door quickly. Their Geometry teacher, Dr. Finchley, gave them a concerned look. "Are you girls alright?" she asked in her upper-class British accent. "You do know that there is supposed to be a few more minutes of break before your exam begins?"

"Yes…" Isabella's eyes met Gretchen's. "We're fine."

* * *

"You want to _what_?" Isabella asked, fiddling around with her fork. The main school lunch today was well-made seafood pasta, which Isabella particularly liked; however, under Gunther's threats, her appetite had fled her, and she was wary, even in a cafeteria full of people.

"Sign off the Talent Show," Gretchen said. "Of all the girls in our school, Gunther hates you the most. Just sign off; don't antagonise him."

"But… Gretchen, we can't! We're already signed up, and the only way to get off is to sign off the entire group."

"Then…" Gretchen thought for a few moments. "Then we'll all sign off."

"_No_. Whatever happens, we are not giving in to the demands of terrorists; even petty bullies like Gunther." Isabella's eyes flashed. "Ginger desperately wants to go up and sing, as do the others. You girls are not going to get deprived of your chance just for my sake."

Gretchen looked as if she wanted to say something, but no words came to her mind, and she shut her mouth as quickly as she had opened it. Experience had taught her that nothing could change Isabella's mind when she spoke like this. Just then, Mark, Phineas, Ferb, Buford, and Baljeet came over to their table. Buford and Ferb had swapped their pasta for several huge pieces of beef and heaps of mashed potatoes, spread over several plates. Baljeet had opted for grilled chicken steak, sliced and placed in a tortilla, while Mark had placed a load of smoked salmon and flatbread on his plate. Phineas, everyman that he was, had simply gone with the normal meal of pasta.

"Hey, guys!" Gretchen's mood lightened at the sight of the five boys. "What're you up to?"

"We're trying to write a song… but the only things we can think of are exams. Funny, 'cause every single test we've taken so far has been easier than pie." Phineas sighed. "I can't seem to think of anything else…"

"I can think of something!" Baljeet piped up. "Samosas!"

"Haggis!" Mark chuckled.

"Chips!"

"Venison!"

"And… how's all of that going to help with writing a song?"

Buford shrugged. "You just asked us to think of something other than tests, and we did. What can you think of?"

Gretchen looked into Phineas' eyes, saw those blue orbs scan the room… and she saw what he did _not_ look at. A quick look at Ferb's eyes told her that he had seen Phineas' gaze, had known where his stepbrother's gaze had gone, and where it had not. _He can't get his mind off of her… _she thought_. He's thinking about… taking their relationship further, but he's afraid… afraid of what she might think.__  
_

Ferb's eyes looked into hers, and she half-guessed, half-knew that his thoughts had echoed hers.

Then, his eyes turned to Isabella, who looked, downhearted towards her food. Gretchen could scarcely remember a time when Isabella had not had a dreamy look in Phineas' direction… and she knew that neither would Ferb. The green-haired giant slightly raised an eyebrow, but kept silent.

Gretchen looked, and saw Gunther stealing hateful glances at Isabella from behind the boys, but from where both Gretchen and Isabella, sitting across from the others, could see the murderous looks he threw them.

The brown-haired girl in glasses knew she had one chance. She began to tap her foot on the floor. Three taps, three stomps, three taps. Three taps, three stomps, three taps.

Ferb gave her a strange look, and then it dawned on him.

Three taps was S. Three stomps was O. Three taps was S.

_SOS_.

* * *

After school, Isabella headed straight home, with the other Fireside girls coming along. They studied for an hour or two, and then went to practice. They scrolled through Ginger's iPod, skipping past the K-Pop and J-Pop, looking for a few songs they liked. They had signed up for three song slots, and before long they had found a mix of pop and ballad songs that they thought would flow nicely.

It took a while to get back in shape, but by the time that the other girls had to leave, they had gotten back the feel of the music, and Isabella thought that they might stand a good chance of winning. As they left her house, wishing her goodbye, she felt her phone buzz once more. She picked it up, only to hear Gunther's surly voice once more.

"Have you signed off?"

"No, I haven't," Isabella growled. "Look, it's a fair competition. If you want to win so much, then just play well."

"You think I can't play well?!"

_No_, she thought._ But I think that Phineas and Ferb can play better._ She didn't say that, of course, choosing to placate Gunther. "I didn't say that, but there's no need to kick us out-"

"That's it, you slimy little c-" He swore brutally. "You'll pay for this."

Before she could answer, he hung up the phone. Isabella couldn't shake the feeling of fear from herself, even when she went to take a shower with her favourite shampoos and conditioners. She began to sing a little tune, a poem she began to compose on the spot.

* * *

Ferb knocked on the door. "Hello, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro. May I speak to Isabella?"

"Oh, yes, certainly. Just wait outside her room, I think she's taking a shower. Do you and Phineas want to join us for dinner? I heard that your parents are still out of town."

Ferb nodded. "Candace is finishing her first year of college, and she's won an award for creative writing. But we're fine for dinner; I plan on cooking up some steaks."

"Okay, then; well, she'll be out of the shower in a few minutes, I think. Just wait up there and knock before you enter."

"Sure, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro."

Ferb climbed up the steps three at a time, and then paused in front of Isabella's door. He might have knocked, but the sound of water splashing told him that she was still showering. He decided to wait outside, politely, when he heard a song from inside, one that he had never heard before.

_Carry me, darling, give me your love;_

_No matter how much, it'll be enough._

_Please don't leave me, make me safe;_

_And keep me safe when the seas are rough._

_Carry me, darling, you make me free;_

_I'll love you even when we disagree._

_And you love me, that I can see;_

_And I know that you'll never leave me._

Ferb thought, and a rare grin crossed his face. He began to formulate verses, choruses, notes, and more in his mind, calculating an entire master score for a five minute song in his brain. Suddenly, the shower spray stopped, and he heard the bathroom door click open, followed by the slapping of wet bare feet on the floor. He knocked on the door.

"Isabella, it's me, Ferb. Can we talk for a second?"

"Alright, just wait a moment. I've got to get dressed."

He waited patiently, until she heard the door click open. Isabella's raven hair, wet from the shower, fell upon her shoulders in an ebon cascade as she looked up at him and smiled. She wore a blue skirt that ended just above the knee, as well as a sleeveless white blouse. Her feet were bare, and not a spot of makeup was on her face, yet Ferb could not help but see her great beauty, and knew why Phineas' heart always threatened to leap out of his chest every time the redhead saw her.

"I've heard that you have some trouble… with exams, or maybe other parts of life. Would you like my help?"

Isabella's eyes dilated, and for a moment, it looked like she might puke. But then, she composed herself, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine."

Ferb wanted to slap down that argument, but he decided against it; he couldn't just force her to tell him of her problems. He just didn't have that kind of authority, and even if he did it wouldn't be right.

"Well then, good night. See you tomorrow."

Isabella nodded and gave him a small smile. "See you tomorrow."

Ferb left the house, disappointed at his lack of progress… but now, though, he had an idea for Phineas.

* * *

**Please review.**


	4. The Incident

**Thank you to those of you who have shown your support by following, favoriting, or reviewing. Please continue to do so.**

**Disclaimer: The author does not seek or attain commercial gain through the publication of this week. All intended commercial support should go to the Walt Disney Corporation for their Original Show _Phineas and Ferb_.**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, please read and review. All reviews are welcome, except flaming. Constructive Criticism is recommended.**

**And, yes: all songs in this story are completely original, as well as all mentioned artists. However, some of those artists may be Shout-Outs to existing music artists. Take John Travolta's '_Adele Dazeem_'.**

******I would also like to endorse the author ChipMuncher, who has shown his support in various ways and is an excellent writer.**

* * *

Chapter Four: The Incident

_Thursday Evening_

Mark took another look at Gunther's files and sighed. "Why nothing?" He muttered. "Why isn't there anything _more_?"

No matter how hard he had dug, he couldn't find anything that he could pin on Gunther. And, strangely, over the past week Gunther had shown less hostility than ever before; some might have stated that it was due to the upcoming talent show, in which Gunther, an accomplished guitarist, was to play. Others would say that the pressures of exams might have caused this unprecedented silence.

Mark thought otherwise.

Yet, no matter where he looked, he simply could not find any more evidence. None of the cheerleaders were willing to talk to him about Gunther, always skirting around his questions and avoiding answering as well as they could. Ginger, his friendly lab partner, had turned away and changed the subject immediately. Rambunctious Adyson had gone pale at his question, and mumbled her way away from him; Gretchen looked as if she wanted to say something, but her words melted as her mouth opened, and no answer had been given to his question.

What little pieces of evidence had found were from Gunther's previous schools, little whispers of hospitalised students and even molestation. But all those whispers had been hushed by the tens of millions of dollars that Gunther's family could bring to the table, as well as the dozen or so street toughs that invariably followed Gunther around whenever he was on the street… and the six who followed him everywhere, even on the school grounds.

Mark had plenty of things to say of people like that. _Namely, that Gunther is a slattern,_ he thought, turning and sending a dart flying into the dartboard a few meters away from him with a '_Thud!_'.

_And a scunner-_

'Thud!'

_And a poltroon-_

'Thud!'

_And a cur-_

'Thud!'

And_ an ungracious little bugg-_

"Mark!" Phineas opened the door to Mark's room. "It's dinnertime."

"Coming!" Mark shut his computer and accompanied his foster brother out of the room, downstairs to where Ferb had undoubtedly cooked some delicious casserole. Even as they said their grace and dug into their food, Mark still thought of Gunther, and to what little he had found._ Money, money, money,_ he thought. _It can take you far; now, it's time that someone found out just how far._

"So," Phineas said, after a few mouthfuls of food. "we're almost done with exams. Just one more day, and then the weekend. Ferb, I think that that song idea would work. Have you printed out the charts?"

Ferb nodded, spooning a dollop of beef, cheese, and mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Great! I'll invite Baljeet and Buford over tomorrow. Mark, what time will you be back?"

"I'll be a little late. Some business I need to catch up with."

* * *

_The next day_

Isabella had always wondered what it felt like to be held by the scruff of her neck and slammed against a wall. That did not mean she _wanted_ that to happen to her… not that Gunther cared.

"You listen here, girly. You get your girls to sign off or I'll-"

"You'll what? Beat me up?" Not that he had, yet; or at least, not today. Other than slamming her against a wall and holding her by the scruff of her neck, he hadn't actually thrown a punch yet… _Count our blessings, _Isabella thought.

Neither Gretchen, Adyson, or Ginger was here to help her. She knew she was all alone, against the bigger boy and his six thugs. "You so scared you want to take on a little girl? Why don't you take your fight to _Phineas_ and _Ferb_? They're playing, too!"

He looked as if he would explode, face reddening and his snarl deepening. "Look, girly; I've got five years on you. I could smash you like a fly. Don't talk back to me."

Isabella had had enough. Her eleven-year-old self came back, and her eyes blazed as she twisted and forced him against the wall. She lacked the sheer physical power to land a knock-out punch, so she brought her elbow against his head and ribs, bruising them. She might have done more, but the six thugs grabbed her and threw her to the floor.

Gunther sneered. "You little twerp… I'm going to-"

The bell began to rang. "That's the tardy bell, Gunther. You keep me here, my teacher's going to wonder why I'm late. You want him to find out?"

The ruffian growled, and slammed his fist into the wall with all of his might. He quickly regretted that, the hard impact cracking his knuckles and sending a spike of pain up his arm. "Let her go."

They did, grudgingly, though not before giving her another leer. Then she felt her arms being released from the vice-like grips, and then she took off as quickly as she could. Behind her, Gunther muttered, too soft to be heard, "You'll pay. You and your little Firefly girls… let's see how well you do with a real fire, huh?"

* * *

"Alright, class; turn in your exams now, and have a good weekend. I'll see you next week; you will not need any study materials for the rest of the year!"

Phineas, Ferb, and the gang rushed out of the class, laughing and heading down to the parking lot. Phineas took a moment to stretch his muscles, thinking of all the fun and relaxation he would be able to have that summer. He was about to head downstairs when he realised, then, that someone was missing. "Isabella?"

He looked behind him, and saw her, one of his two best friends, walking slowly with a forlorn look on her face. Phineas wasn't sure what was wrong, but that didn't stop him from turning back to her and giving her a concerned look. "Isabella? What's wrong?"

"W-What?" Isabella looked up and saw him, but didn't respond with her normal cheerfulness and enthusiasm. "Oh, it's you, Phineas. It's nothing… I'm going to practice for the Talent Show with the other girls."

"Well, alright. Do you want a ride back home?"

She hesitated, and then nodded her head. "Sure, I could use it. I'll call you half an hour before I want you to pick me up, alright?"

"Sure!" Phineas smiled at her, and she gave a weak smile back, but she didn't truly look as if she wanted to talk.

Phineas took a deep breath. "Are you okay, Isabella? I know we still haven't found out about the guys who beat you up last week…"

"No, no, it's alright; I'm just tired after all the exams. But, hey, we're pretty much done with the school year." She tried to grin, but the only thing that appeared on her face was a small smile that didn't fully assure Phineas. He quickly reassured himself, telling himself that Isabella was more than capable of dealing with her problems. _She's a Fireside girl. What could happen?_

As she walked away from him, though, Phineas turned his thoughts to his relationship with her. For the past four years, he and Isabella had been more than best friends; they had kissed a few times, even gone on a few dates, and they had managed to keep it all a secret from most people. There were exceptions to that, of course; Ferb knew, of course, as well as the old gang, and trying to keep something hidden from Mark, their foster brother, was near impossible. And, of course, good parents, like Mr. and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher and the Garcia-Shapiros, seemed to know everything about their kids. But even with these close friends and relatives, the only person they would openly talk to about their relationship was Ferb.

With a sigh, Phineas turned back towards the stairwell and began descending towards the parking lot.

* * *

_You said that you loved me,_  
_But you never wanted me_,  
_Can't take this anymore;_

_Leave me alone! Take me home!  
I had a dream, but the dream is gone!  
Let me go! Let me roam!  
I want to be on my own!_

On my ooooowwwnnn…

"Wow, Isabella," Adyson said, finishing off the song with a strum. "You sure haven't lost that voice."

Ginger cleared her throat. "She actually has. But now, she's got a better one. Now, you sound like a pop star!"

"What kind of pop star?" Isabella laughed. "There are a _lot_."

"Well…" Gretchen thought. "Try sounding like Tyara North!"

Isabella tried it, doing her best rendition of the country singer's slight twang and mellow tones. The other girls began giggling, and then Adyson stood up, a malevolent chuckle emanating from her mouth.

"Blood Briana!"

After clearing her throat, she began to impersonate the heavy metal star, with a fiery timbre and frightening volume. The other Fireside Girls laughed and quickly racked their brains for another singer.

"Adele Dazeem!"

She lowered her voice, feeling for the Broadway singer's range, before letting adjusting the resonance of her voice and introducing a few sultry undertones. Then, she let loose every ounce of power she had in her voice, doing a perfect imitation of the famous Broadway singer and Hollywood voice actress.

"Maybe they should just hire you as a voice actress, Isabella; or, you could become a professional singer, or something like that. I can see it right now: 'Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, the Omni-talented Singer'!" Adyson sighed with satisfaction. "'No Genre is out of her reach!'"

"Give it up, Adyson; I'm not going to get rich just to pay for your pension." Isabella rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it's kinda far-fetched to retire at 23, like you intend to."

"You're the girl who lives next door… to a guy who has communicated with half the galaxy, won an intergalactic war, and built thousands of structurally, physically, or fundamentally impossible inventions with the help of his brother, who functions as a voting member of the United Nations Security Council, graduated from three Ivy League colleges last year, and can lift a car. And _I'm_ far-fetched?"

Isabella thought and had to agree that the point was valid. "Still, though… I'm not going to do it."

"Fine," Adyson said. "How much longer should we practice?"

"Hm…" Isabella looked at her watch. "About another thirty minutes." She pulled out her phone.

"That reminds me…"

* * *

"Buford! For the last time, if you are going to use the Rocket Launcher against him, do not get too close!" Baljeet was absolutely indignant, especially when Ferb's next bullet from his sniper rifle landed a headshot on Baljeet's own character.

Next to them, Mark sighed. "Phineas, it's the four of us against your brother. How are we losing?"

Ferb smiled and called from downstairs. "It's got to do with skill. Three, two, one-"

Mark groaned as the blue glow of a sticky grenade appeared on the corner of the screen, followed quickly by a sudden explosion that sent his character flying off the screen. Phineas swapped to see what his second, randomly set weapon was, and grinned as he whipped out an Annihilation Cannon. "Alright, Ferb! I've got you in my-"

Ferb quickly aimed and pressed a side button, and his character leapt to Phineas' character, vaulting over the video-game soldier's head, and then whirling around to bury a plasma dagger in the avatar's sternum. He pressed another button, swapping his spent grenade launcher for the Annihilation Cannon. "Let the buyer beware!"

"Phineas! What did you just do?" Buford groaned, but his anger was quickly transformed into shock as the back-to-back trio of Mark, Baljeet, and himself was vaporised under a single, enormous explosion.

Suddenly, Phineas' phone rang. He picked it up, ignoring the wails and screams of terror that came from the other three in the room with him. "Hello?"

"Hey, Phineas? This is Isabella. Can you and Ferb come and pick me up now?"

"Sure!" Phineas smiled. "We'll be right on it."

"What are you guys doing now?" Isabella's voice sounded a good deal more cheerful than it had when Phineas had left school, just before noon.

"Well, we had lunch, practiced for a few hours, and now we're playing video games."

"Ferb's winning, huh?"

Phineas was surprised. "How can you tell?"

"What can make Baljeet, Buford, and Mark all scream in terror at the same time?" Isabella giggled over the phone, and once more, Phineas felt his heart ache. He suddenly realised that even though it had only been a few hours, he missed her already.

"Hey, guys! Keep it down!" He turned back to the phone. "Yeah, you were right. He's curb-stomping us."

Isabella laughed, and Phineas knew that however she had spent her afternoon, she was happy… and that was enough for him.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Isabella decided that they had practiced enough, and they began to pack up. Milly had recently gotten her driver's license, so the other girls hopped into the old van that Milly's dad had given to her. Gretchen turned back to Isabella, who was waving goodbye. "Sure you don't want to come along?"

"No, thanks; Phineas and Ferb are coming to pick me up!"

"Alright, suit yourself!" Gretchen shut the door of the van, and then turned to Milly. "Alright, Milly, let's go!"

Her friend smirked, shifted gears, and reversed the car onto the lane.

Isabella smiled as her friends drove off, thinking of the days when they, on the hunt for adventure, had ended up behind the wheels of several aged vehicles. It was good to be finished with exams; she felt more relaxed now, and she could think properly. Even Gunther didn't seem to be that big of a problem, in hindsight. He may have been savage, but he didn't seem like one who would back up his threats… or keep any of his promises, really.

She looked at her watch again. _Where's Phineas? He should be here by now._

Isabella turned back to her friends, whose car, still less than fifty meters away from her, was making its way out of the school compound. She had asked them if they wanted to practice the next day, Saturday, and they had all said-

And then a truck, a huge eighteen-wheeler, came out of nowhere and rammed into the little van as it emerged from the school driveway. The smaller vehicle was almost completely crushed and flung aside, off the road. Isabella looked on, horrified, as the eighteen-wheeler, with barely a dent, continued to drive past, fast enough that most people could not have seen any feature of the driver. Isabella, though, had spent plenty of time birdwatching as a child, and her eyes were still sharp, sharp enough to see the familiar hoody and shades that she remembered from a call the week before. A call that had frightened her, had shivered her to her bones, when she had received it. But she was not shivering now. She quickly whipped out her phone. _9-1-1._

"Hello, there's been a car crash," she said, struggling to keep her voice calm and remember the necessary words. "Please tell the relevant parties that we are on Oak Avenue 611, and that the _accident," _she said, spitting out the word. "was a hit-and-run from an eighteen-wheeler who has fled the scene. Please, hurry! There are several people trapped inside, and…" She struggled for words, until only one escaped from her mouth.

"_Help_."

* * *

The legionary took the blow from the Viking on his shield, and then the next, and then the one afterwards. The Viking slammed into him with his shield, but the Roman expected that, and side-stepped before ramming the spikes of his boot down on the Viking's exposed femur. The Norse Warrior was wearing mail, but even then, the strike was enough to snap the femur, leaving the big Scandinavian howling. The legionary ran up with his gladius, and was about to stab the Viking in the back, when the barbarian whipped his head back and grabbed the sword by its blade, screaming a barbarian war cry. He pulled the Roman closer and cut off the soldier's head, sending the plumed helmet flying.

"Yes!" Buford yelled, ecstatic of his victory. "Eat that, twerp!"

"Well, the points are still tallying… it seems like I have more, Buford." Mark chuckled. "That berserker hit was good, but the fact is, you'd used too many no-sell attacks. Besides, the Huskarl died two seconds after the legionary, and considering that the legionary is a base character, while you had to use a tier-4 character… ooh, dear."

"Oh, come on." Buford growled. "If I let you use the Spartan, you'd just crush me awfully!"

"It's about skill, not the character one uses."

"Yeah? Then why does Ferb always use the Paladin?"

Ferb smiled from the driver's seat, looking back as Mark, Buford, and Baljeet surrounded the gaming console that had been installed in the truck. "Rank has its privileges… I'm the reigning World Champion for this game, and the Paladin is only OP if you're skilled enough. If you don't have the timing, you'll suffer."

In truth, he also felt a strange affinity to the only tier-5 character, who, with nigh-impenetrable armour, massive greatsword, and the ability to summon a lance and armoured destrier in special attacks, was undoubtably the most powerful character in the game. Something about the Damascene steel blade, the sheer size and power of the knight, and the amazing prowess with which the character wielded the blade, as well as the speed which belied his size, drew Ferb to the character. That, and only the hundred best players in the world were allowed free, unpaid access to the character, and Ferb chose not to waste it.

Next to him, Phineas looked bored. No, scratch that; Phineas' face was one of longing, and Ferb knew he was thinking of Isabella. He looked back to the other three, who were still busy arguing the merits of different characters, and then spoke to Phineas. "You know, she wouldn't mind if you just told everyone."

"I know, but still…" Phineas sighed. "What if it turns out wrong? What if, well, it just doesn't work out?"

"Then it won't… but you know what? Better to show affection to a girl than to forever keep silent about your crush on her. And look: it's mutual, and both of you know it."

Both brothers kept silent for a while, as Ferb continued to drive down the highway. After a few minutes, Ferb spoke once more. "Phineas, the people who are likely to be surprised, who your relationship would have the most danger from, already know about it and accept it. As for anyone who doesn't…" Ferb grinned and flexed an enormous bicep. "Whoever matters already knows about it by now. Those who don't know about it yet, they'll learn to accept it, and if they don't, well, they don't matter."

Phineas nodded, and looked as if he might say something, but then his phone rang. He flipped it open and spoke into it. "Phineas Flynn, who is this?"

"Mr. Flynn, we've been asked to contact you, and several other contacts, by a Ms. Garcia-Shapiro about an emergency…"

Phineas turned it onto loudspeaker. "Emergency? What happened?" Ferb's curiosity was piqued, and the other three paused their game and their argument, listening intently.

"There's been a car crash involving several individuals who may be friends of yours. It was a hit-and-run done by a large truck, and unconfirmed reports state that it may be intentional…"

Mark didn't know, he couldn't know… yet, he realised that he _did_ know who did it; that he should have guessed, and should have prepared for it. He felt like an utter fool, but now was not the time for guilt.

Now was the time for justice.

* * *

**Please read and review.**


	5. Justice

**Thank you to those of you who have shown your support by following, favoriting, or reviewing. Please continue to do so.**

**Disclaimer: The author does not seek or attain commercial gain through the publication of this week. All intended commercial support should go to the Walt Disney Corporation for their Original Show _Phineas and Ferb_.**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, please read and review. All reviews are welcome, except flaming. Constructive Criticism is recommended.**

******I would also like to endorse the author ChipMuncher, who has shown his support in various ways and is an excellent writer.**

* * *

Chapter Five: **Justice**

_{Perry, you there?}_

_[Doof's sick today, and fell unconscious, leaving me to break the Inator of the day by myself. I'm at the hospital, keeping an eye on the girls.]_

_{How are they holding up?}_

_[They're still in the hospital and unconscious, but their surgeries went off without a hitch. They'll be back in about three or four weeks… or at least, that's what Carl can dig up. They have near-perfect physical fitness, though, so their recovery might be faster.]_

Mark sighed with relief, and then thought about what to type next.

_{Perry, I think it was Gunther who did this.}_

The reply appeared almost instantly:_ [You'd be right. The traffic cameras have been collected, and there's a pile of evidence that suggests it was Gunther: fingerprints, lack of alibi, violent past, clothing spotted in the footage, and the fact that it's been done before, possibly by him.]_

_{Yeah, I read the files. Do you know who the truck belonged to?}_

_[Yes; a trucker from Los Angeles, goes by the name of Gus Atkinson. He's completely clean, and he reported that his truck had been stolen about an hour before the crash.]_

_{And did it check out?}_

_[He gave a perfect description of a truck that the agency found a few miles away, from license and paint job to make and model. It's still operational, but it's got some dents and a broken window, and his company's planning to sue whoever stole the truck and used it for this. Atkinson's fine, but we still need proof, not just evidence, to pin it on Gunther. Right now, what we have is substantial.]_

There was silence on both sides. Suddenly, Mark remembered something.

_{Agent P, I don't have the full file coverage with me right now. Could you look up a Gwendolyn Smith, who lived in Pittsburgh?}_

_[Sure thing.]_

Mark waited for a few seconds, tapping his foot on the bathroom floor. He hoped that no one needed a cubicle soon, because there was a good chance that he would have to be there for a while more.

* * *

Back in his classroom, his class was having their annual party, complete with pizza and a few blockbuster movies, but for most, a smile and a chuckle were the only things they could manage, instead of the normally boisterous, rowdy atmosphere. It was a shock to have almost all the former Fireside Girls in the hospital, all except Isabella. The beautiful, raven-haired girl, despite her lack of physical harm, was still shell-shocked, but she herself had decided to come to school anyways, and she could fake it well enough for both nurse and psychiatrist to have no choice but let her attend class.

* * *

_[Mark. Pay attention, NOW.]_

_{What did you find? The only things I remember about Ms. Smith was-}_

_[She was supposed to be in a car that her friends were driving back home, after a basketball game. She, however, had forgotten something and gone back inside... when the car left and was wrecked in a hit-and-run with a truck. Sound familiar?]_

_{Yes, that's what I remembered.} _

Perry cut him off. _[That's not the reason I'm telling you this. Not listed in the incident, because of no provable connection, was that the week after, on the way back from school, she had gone missing. Her naked corpse had been found with her throat cut.]_

Mark's eyes widened as he realized the full implications. _{What should I do?}_

_[Scrap the plan. You need to put him behind bars. NOW.]_

Mark felt for the vials in his pocket, the ones he was only going to be using as a precaution. _Analgesia_, Perry had said. _That, and excruciating pain and nausea._

_He's a platypus, they said. They don't do much, they said._ Mark chuckled darkly, and felt the coursing rage of his Scottish ancestors racing through his veins… and below that, the iron will of the Romans that he could trace his family line back to. _Afti einai i Sparti._

* * *

"Here, Isabella." Isabella looked up as Mark handed her a drink with a smile, and smiled back, drinking the root beer.

"Thanks," she said. "Is there something in this?"

"It's a new brand; it allows you to feel better and relieves depression."

She nodded towards Mark, drank it, and agreed; it did make her feel happier. She had no idea how, or why, but she was glad.

* * *

After school, Isabella refused Phineas' offer of a ride, instead choosing to take the half-an-hour-long walk towards the hospital. She stopped at a Slushy Burgers joint, and ordered a burger with fries. The burger was undoubtedly delicious, as were the organic potato fries, and the root beer she had ordered to drink it with was as fine as any she had ever drank before. It made no matter, though; her appetite was completely gone. _It all went wrong, and so quickly, _she thought. _One minute, they were driving away, smiling, and then.._.

Isabella began to cry into her burger, as softly as possible. "Just like Pinky," she muttered. "One quick accident and then it's all over…"

"Isabella?"

She looked up and saw Candace and Jeremy standing in front of her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine… What are you guys doing here?"

"We're back visiting from college. How was this year for you guys?"

Isabella smiled and began to elaborate. "It was great; I managed to make the cheerleading team, and Phineas and Ferb…"

She continued for a few more minutes, answered a few questions and asked some of her own, and eventually left, waving goodbye to the couple. They smiled and waved back, and Isabella found a smile returning to her face. _It's not so bad, _she reminded herself_. They're all still alive, and getting the best medical care in the United States; a couple of weeks, and they'll be back home._

She was about five minutes from the hospital when she got the feeling that something was wrong. Isabella knew that this was a dark, secluded spot, where several crimes, in the early 50s and 60s, had been commited. She turned around, looking around for other people. But there was no one else around.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

And then, she heard the pounding footsteps of several people bursting into a run. She turned behind her, and saw five big, scarred teenagers with switchblades in their hands. She sprinted the other way, her adrenaline pumping, and it appeared as if, by dint of her physique and light body, that she might _just_ make it…

Then, three others burst out of an alley. She reacted quickly, stopping and trying to sprint off to the side, but she had stopped too late, and her arm was grabbed forcefully, her wrist held in a vice-like grip. She turned to look, and realized that it was Gunther holding her wrist, with a malicious look on his face.

The thugs dragged her into an alley, but unlike the normal beating that she was expecting, she was thrown against the wall painfully. Gunther chuckled, long, loud and low… as did the other thugs, who all whipped out knives and poles.

"Remember what I said, Dorkabella? They'd find your naked corpse in an alley…" A lewd grin came over his face. "With your legs spread open wide."

Isabella felt a draught come through the area, and realized that the flip-flops, miniskirt, and tank top she was wearing would not help her case any. She knew that she might be able to take Gunther alone… but with nine thugs at his back and weapons, she stood no chance.

She couldn't stand a chance.

That revelation shocked her, as if she had never fully understood the implications before. Yet, now she understood, and instead of panic, she felt anger, anger at the savagery and bestiality that Gunther had, and a determination. _I will not go down without a fight_, she told herself.

"You want me? Come take me."

Even Gunther alone would be able to bring her down, with the pole in his hand. He laughed, and turned to his ruffians. "Keep her face… and keep her conscious. I _so_ love it when they squeal-"

And then, the world erupted.

* * *

"Where's Mark?" Phineas asked, turning to Ferb. His green-haired stepbrother shrugged.

"He said he had something to attend to."

Phineas turned back to the road in front of them, watching as they passed the other cars on the highway. "Oh… well, what do you think it is?"

"Probably something important."

* * *

A cloud of smoke exploded, blocking everybody's view. Isabella tried to run, but, even when blinded, Gunther's mooks still surrounded her, and she was still thrown back into the semi-circle. As the smoke cleared, though, a figure stood in their midst, between Isabella and the rest.

"Mark?" Isabella was incredulous. "How did you-"

"Enough. Gunther, what are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? This girl made fun of me, and now I'm going to…" The next few words were unintelligible, but Isabella knew what he meant.

Mark smirked at him, his visage like one who was completely invincible. "You will _what_?"

Gunther exploded. "I'll say it again, in a _nice_ way, for all the world to hear: I'm going to rape her, cut her throat, and send her to hell!"

"Like you did with Gwen Smith?"

Gunther was now beyond reason. "Yeah! And now, you're going with her!" Gunther turned to his thugs. "Get him!"

Nine ruffians, aged seventeen to twenty-one, lunged towards him, weapons raised. Mark didn't bat an eye. And then, they started screaming.

Mark stood among them, aloof as they all, as one, collapsed, slumping into painful heaps. As each fell, the impact of the ground caused them even more pain, and howls of agony erupted from their throats. Gunther's was the most painful, a graceless flop as the overweight boy crashed onto the ground."

"Gunther!" Mark barked. "What you are experiencing is the poison of _Ornithorynchus anatinus_, a poisonous animal form the Australian continent. It has been brought into an aerosol form, and will kill you unless I give you the antidote. I will only do so if you do not promise to leave Isabella alone forever more."

The look on Gunther's face was one of sheer terror. "I… promise…"

"Speak louder!" Mark snarled, for a moment more beast than man.

"I PROMISE!"

"Good." Mark pulled out a syringe. "This will hurt, but it'll let you live."

"Fine!" Gunther wailed. "Just do it!"

Mark shrugged and injected a liquid into each ruffian's body, starting with Gunther. As he did, they started spasming even more, completely wracked in pain. And then, he was done, and he took Isabella, heading away from the writhing thugs.

As soon as he walked out of the alley, a truck pulled up, with the logo OWCA appearing on it. Armed men emerged from the truck, and began pulling the thugs into the car.

"My uncle, on my mother's side, has powerful friends in the government," he explained to Isabella, who was completely confused by this turn of events. "He's a Major-General, who goes by the name of Monogram. Those are his men back there."

"But… that poison…"

"Platypus venom. It hasn't been known to kill humans, but has been known to cause extreme pain, as well as increase the human body's sensitivity to pain. It also causes nausea."

Isabella was confused. "If it hasn't been known to kill humans… then what did you inject them with?"

"Caffeine. Prolongs the pain."

Isabella's eyes widened at Mark's brutality, but considering what Gunther and his cronies would have done to her... "Why weren't we affected?"

"I slipped something into your drink this morning; the antidote, mixed with another chemical that increases dopamine. In short, it made you happy." Mark smiled at her, but it was a concerned smile. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine… But what is this OWCA?"

Mark sighed. "A few months ago, I wouldn't be able to tell you… but a few rules have changed. Keep this a secret, alright?"

Isabella nodded her agreement. Mark took a deep breath, and then began his explanation. "The OWCA is a governmental espionage organization that focuses on dealing with unconventional situations. It has several branches, all of which feature heavily-armed SWAT teams, powerful, experimental technology, but strangest of all, animal agents."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Animal agents?"

"Certain animals, all around the world, are orphaned soon after their birth, and are often brought into the OWCA. There, they are given a completely safe environment where they are free to breed… but there are also technologies which grant them human lifespans and levels of intelligence." Mark chuckled. "They're smarter than many people, in fact. And the technology, in its mobile, ray-gun form, works near-instantaneously."

Isabella wanted to deny it, but honestly, after everything she and Phineas had seen, she had to admit that it was possible. "Are there any particular ones I should know about?"

Mark shook his head. "I can't tell you the names of individual agents… but I'm not one, actually. But my uncle has plenty of connections, and I have had one heck of an education."

"I guess that explains why you're fluent in so many languages… and why your grades are as high as they are." Isabella sighed. "But Gunther'll probably manage to slip out-"

"No, he won't." Mark shook his head once more, his voice turning into iron. "His family may be rich enough to evade the prosecution of a school or of a single family… but the OWCA's going for him. And I've got his entire confession right here." He waved a tape in front of his face.

"He yelled out loud that he was going to rape and kill you and me… and that he'd done it before." He chuckled. "Anger is a double-edged sword indeed."

"So… what's your full name? Monogram-Campbell?"

"Yup. Marcus Scaeva Monogram-Campbell."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Scaeva? What's that supposed to mean?"

"One of my ancestors," Mark said, grinning at the sight of the hospital looming up ahead. "But that's a story for another day."

* * *

**Please review.**


	6. The Plot

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**Disclaimer: The author does not seek or attain commercial gain through the publication of this week. All intended commercial support should go to the Walt Disney Corporation for their Original Show _Phineas and Ferb_.**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, please read and review. All reviews are welcome, except flaming. Constructive Criticism is recommended.**

******I would also like to endorse the author ChipMuncher, who has shown his support in various ways and is an excellent writer.**

* * *

Chapter 6: The Plot

"You're sure this will work?" Irving was more than slightly anxious. "I mean, she's not exactly in a fit state of mind right now…"

"Come on, nerd! This is Girly! The Fireside Girl! Phineas' lil' damsel-in-distress… who's rarely in distress, but still, you know what I mean!" Buford loosely held the sack in a single massive paw. The three of them were crammed into a tiny storage room, and Buford's bulk made what little space they had even more cramped. All of them, though, were more than willing to go through with Ferb's plan, never mind the uncomfortable quarters. That didn't mean they enjoyed it.

"Besides," Buford continued. "I remember that she said something about wanting to spend some time alone with this bag, back on her eleventh birthday."

Baljeet cleared his throat. "Actually, I believe that I may have misquoted her at that point…"

"You what?" Buford might have throttled his Indian frenemy, but there was simply no room for him to do so. "I had to dig through three scrapyards, sing soprano, learn to write Cyrillic, and wrestle the Kraken just to get this bag!"

"Wait, you went to all that trouble to get that bag?" Baljeet's eyes widened. "Is that the one from when she was eleven?"

Buford rolled his eyes with annoyance. "What do you think, runt? Of course! You think she's going to want to spend time alone with some other bag?"

Irving interrupted them quickly. "Guys, she's coming!"

"Aw, whatever." Buford readied the sack. "Let's just get this done with."

* * *

That day, when Isabella had come to school, she realised that something was different. Every single girl in her class was even friendlier, losing most of whatever surliness they had had beforehand. Isabella herself felt a sense of relief that Gunther would no longer be able to come after her… though at one point, it occurred to her that perhaps it was possible, somehow, that Gunther's influence and family cash would be able to see his revenge through. However, as that thought had crossed her mind, Mark had turned to her, and seen something on her face that tipped him off.

"You don't need to be afraid, Isabella. If anyone tries to touch you, I'll gut them. And if they try to hurt you… I'll get Ferb."

That reassured her even more, yet she couldn't shake that nagging feeling that she was being watched, or that Gunther's vengeance would come for her anyways. But for every thought of fear or paranoia that crossed her mind, there were ten times as many thoughts of relief and happiness. Her friends were alive, and had, one by one, regained consciousness. Summer vacation was about to begin, meaning more time with Phineas and the end of the school year. Gunther was behind bars, and there was little to no chance of him getting out, even with his family fortune… not to mention, he was in constant, nerve-wracking agony from the platypus venom, which no painkiller could effectively deal with. His pain, though, was nothing compared to the fear that Isabella, or any of the other girls in their class, had felt. Neither could it be held up to the grief that had filled the families of his previous victims.

Of course, that meant that Isabella was now free to play in the Talent Show… but she couldn't. With all other members of her group in the hospital, she was the only member present. All their performances were meant to be group performances, and there wasn't any time to sign up for a solo performance. Furthermore, even if she could sign up for one, Isabella wouldn't have the time or the ability to practice for it in such short notice.

Isabella suddenly found herself needing to take a leak, so she left the classroom and crossed the hall, heading towards the bathroom at the far end. There was another bathroom that was nearer to the classroom, but it was situated directly above the boys' locker room, and so, for obvious reasons, it was rarely used outside of emergencies. She relieved herself, washed her hands, and was walking back to the classroom when she heard a noise from a shady corner.

She knew that there was no need to investigate, but once more, the residual paranoia from Gunther's threats scared her, and she found her feet shuffling towards the strange sounds. Isabella had no idea what was causing those sounds, and tried to will herself to ignore it, a small portion of her brain even telling herself to run. Yet, her curiosity got the better of her, and she took another step forward-

And then, a massive hand grabbed her from behind, and, before she could even move a muscle, dumped her inside a sack.

* * *

"Ferb, what are you talking about?" Phineas raised an eyebrow and stuffed another cookie into his mouth. The other people in the classroom were too fixated on the movie to pay attention to their conversation, so both brothers decided to speak freely at this point.

The green-haired giant felt like slapping his brother upside the head to help him get the point, but he decided against it, knowing that that doing so could easily knock Phineas' head clean off. "I'm saying, you should tell her that it's alright to make it official… and then make it official."

"But… what if she doesn't want to?"

Ferb rolled his eyes. "Phineas, why wouldn't she?"

"I… I don't know. Girls are hard to understand, alright?" Ferb couldn't help but concede that point. Girls were, in his experience, hard to understand, even the ones that he was familiar with.

"Have you talked to her at all about it?" Ferb asked, selecting a cookie from himself and engulfing it in a single massive bite.

Phineas sighed. "Once before… a long time ago, before Mark came to stay with us. We were trapped in that submarine, and…"

"And?"

"When we got out, we realised that it was a subject that we shouldn't discuss further, at least until we matured enough."

Ferb thought for a moment. "Has it occurred to you guys that perhaps you're already mature enough?"

"Well, it's crossed my mind… but how do I know for certain? What if we're not?"

Ferb looked Phineas in the eye. "Phineas, do you trust me?"

"With my life," Phineas said, his voice filling with certainty.

"Then listen to me. There are some things that you won't know until you try. But I'll say this… I can trust you to have my back, Phineas. I can always trust you to do what you believe is the right thing to do, and that almost always does turn out to be the right thing to do. The fact that you and Isabella have chosen to keep your relationship where it is for this long tells me that whatever it'll take to make being a couple work, you guys have it or will one day have it." Ferb smiled. "So, I'll ask you now: do you want to talk to Isabella about it?"

* * *

After a while of being carried around, Isabella felt the sack being pulled off her head, the burlap brushing against her combed, raven hair. The brightness that had filled her vision immediately after the sack left her head soon abated, and she realised that she was sitting in a dark room, on a rickety wooden chair. Three figures wearing balaclavas were standing in front of her, one massive, and the other two slight. She sighed at the sight of them.

"Buford, what are you doing? And where did you get that sack?" The massive boy looked to his companions on either side. "Um, er… First! I'm not Buford! Second! You don't need to know!"

"Really?" Isabella chuckled. "Baljeet! Can't, don't, haven't, I'm, you've-"

Baljeet, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of conjunctions, panicked and started to scream. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH-"

Buford smacked him in the face, getting him to shut up. "How did you know it was us?"

"Let me see… your voices, your body shapes, and the fact that you didn't even try to tie me up. I mean, come on, guys. I've known you guys since I was three." Isabella sighed, fingering an ebon lock. "And, well, if you had really been trying to hurt me, Mark would have stopped you." She thought for a moment. "And if Mark didn't stop you, that means that he knows about this, and he's with you…" It only took her another moment. "This is Ferb's plan, isn't it?"

The three guys looked at each other. Irving's voice came from the third figure. "There's really no more point in this, is there?" As one, all three pulled their balaclavas off, revealing their identities to Isabella. Not that it was necessary, considering she already knew who they were.

"So, guys, what's up? Why am I here?"

"Because we want you to talk." All four turned towards the massive shape that Isabella knew to be Ferb. The green-haired giant emerged from the shadows, his bass voice resounding across the room. "Phineas wants to talk to you about something, and we wanted to do this in complete secrecy." Mark walked beside Ferb, glancing at his watch. The lean Scot's brogue rang out. "The teachers have given us permission to use this storage room to talk for a while. But let's not beat around the bush here."

Phineas himself emerged from the shadows. "Guys, I'd appreciate it if-"

"Got it, bro. Come on, guys." Ferb gestured to the other boys, and together, all five of them left the room.

Both Phineas and Isabella looked each other in the eyes, neither speaking. And then, like a dam breaking, Isabella ran up to Phineas and hugged him as tightly as possible. He did likewise, and they stood there for a while more, simply comforting each other in their embrace. When they finally released each other, it felt like only a heartbeat had passed, but Phineas guessed they had been standing there for several minutes.

"Isabella… so, um, how are you doing?"

Isabella nodded, a sweet smile crossing her face. "I'm doing alright, I guess. Did you hear about Gunther?"

"Yeah, I did. I never thought he was capable of doing something like that…" A look of regret came over his face. "I also heard that he tried to…"

Isabella knew that he was struggling to say the words, so she ended his misery. "I know. It's alright, though; I'm perfectly safe, and nothing really happened to me. Some police officers came by and stopped it before it went anywhere, and he's in jail now. At least I got off better than his previous victims."

Phineas sighed, and decided to change the subject. "So, you can't be in the Talent Show any more?" She nodded. "It's fine, though; at least the other girls are all safe and alive." At that point, Phineas decided that it was time.

"I've been thinking… about our relationship. Do you think we should make it official?"

The little girl in Isabella said 'Yes', but she knew that it needed more consideration than that. "I… I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think that…" Phineas thought as to how he was going to say this. "I think that whatever happens, I'll always be there for you. No matter how many people know of our relationship, I will always love you; even if all this romantic feeling is just infatuation, I will still love you as a friend and as a human being. Nothing can change that."

Isabella looked into his blue eyes, sea meeting sky as her own azure irises gazed into his marine. "You will?"

"I may not always be the perfect boyfriend…" Phineas remembered when, yesterday afternoon, he had received the call from the police that one of his best friends, who was also his love interest, had narrowly escaped a brutal rape and death… remembered that feeling of helplessness and guilt that it had almost happened, and he had not been able to do a thing about it. He shoved those memories out of his mind. "But I will always do what I think is best for you. Even at my own cost."

And then he felt Isabella hugging him once more, and he hugged her back. They looked into each others' eyes, and Isabella found the words she needed to say.

"Phineas, I trust you. I trust you with my life, as I trusted you back when we were just inventing kids, and I will trust you as long as I know you. And so, I trust you enough to say this: I don't know about telling other people about our relationship, but I will trust any decision that you make."

She might have said more, but then Phineas leaned in and kissed her, muffling whatever words she had left to say. She suddenly realised that, indeed, she trusted him. And then she, too, kissed him back. The blood in their ears was roaring, stopping them from hearing the whispered cheers and fist-bumps of five friends, peeking through the eyeholes.

Ferb smiled, not a word issuing from his mouth. And then, in a mutter that could only be heard by himself, he spoke his thoughts.

"Atta boy, Phineas."


	7. The Endgame

**Thank you to those of you who have read this far. I am grateful for your support. Please, if you haven't yet, or if you have some invoice thoughts, please review or PM me.**

**Disclaimer: The author is not making a cent out of this, and he's not trying. He only owns the song 'The Extent of Love', a completely original song which is in here, as well as the character of Mark.**

**I would also like to endorse the author ChipMuncher, who has shown his support in various ways and is an excellent writer. **

* * *

Chapter 7: The Endgame

"Well, ladies and gents, wasn't that great?" The grinning emcee took another glance at his cue cards. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, for our final performance, we are proud to give you… the Baljeatles!"

A smile on her face, Isabella clapped and cheered, as did the other thousand people in the crowd around her. She held up the video camera, aiming it towards the front, where Phineas and their friends were walking onstage, calling out to the crowds. The redhead smiled and waved, and Isabella's face turned dreamy once more at the sight of her savant's face. True, he hadn't told her what his choice was as to whether they should make their relationship official… but she was more than willing to wait for the answer.

"Danville High!" Phineas yelled. "Are you ready!"

As one, the crowd roared, "YEEEEEESSS!" Isabella, though, noted that they had brought no equipment with them onto the stage, but she trusted that they had a plan of some sort. Sure enough, Ferb brought out a tiny handkerchief from his pocket. He unfolded it once, then twice, then a third time, until, with a grand flourish, it unfurled into a massive piece of fabric. Once more, Isabella wondered how Ferb was able to do so, but he wasn't done yet.

Mark took a corner of the fabric, Buford took another corner, and the third corner was picked up by Baljeet, leaving Ferb to grab the last corner of the fabric. They lifted the blanket up, and then brought it down. Then, the others stepped away, and the green-haired giant pulled away the covering with a flourish, revealing several guitars, a huge fifteen-piece drum set, an enormous, high-tech keyboard, and a massive sound system, which looked like it could have been from the next century.

Isabella was more than impressed, but her amazement paled in comparison to the crowd's. Even the students from their rival schools were cheering, as well as complete strangers and even the VIP judges, which included the members of Love Handel, Elizabeth M. Feyerseid, and several of the most prominent musicians from various genres, such as rock, pop, and country. Once again, she thought of just what Phineas and Ferb had achieved and what they could well achieve in the future, and a grin crossed over her face.

Then, the members of the band stepped closer, and the crowd grew silent, with rapt attention on all of their faces. Now was the moment they had been waiting for.

And Isabella knew that they would not be disappointed.

* * *

Phineas took a deep breath. "Ladies and Gentlemen! We're the Baljeatles! Over there is the Magnificent, one and only Ferb Flynn-Fletcher, rocking lead guitar!"

The emerald-haired giant stepped forward, carrying his massive, decked-out guitar, and let loose a sudden, overwhelming riff that blew the crowd away. Phineas waited for the cheering to die down before continuing.

"The Extravagant Baljeet Tjinder, playing auxiliary guitar!"

The Indian boy, sleeves rolled back, played a fiery, vigorous version of the introduction for 'Rubber Bands, Rubber Balls'. He ended with a flamboyant finish before winking in the general direction of the crowd, especially the girls within. Nearly a hundred girls stared, jaws agape, and almost a dozen dramatically swooned.

"The Dread Buford Van Stomm, drummer extraordinaire!"

Buford had chosen not to shave that morning, and with his thick brown beard, he looked for all the world like a Viking from an era long-gone. True to his appearance, he roared, before thundering away on the drums with a brutal, 16-measure, 240 bpm solo that got the crowd roaring.

"The Illustrious Irving DuBois, keyboard expert!"

For once, the nerd took his cues perfectly, starting an overly complex sample piece, and then ending with a flourish, leading to widespread applause. Phineas and Ferb had signed him onto their group originally, though he had missed most of their practices due to schedule conflicts. From the few practices he _had_ attended, though, he had done excellently.

"The Fearsome Mark Campbell, master of effects!"

Mark didn't hold a single visible instrument, but after the rapid flicking of several switches, it only took one press of a button to send a 3-D laser display into the sky, accompanied by a racing skirl of Highland Bagpipes. The pipes were being played by Mark himself, who did so by playing with the side keyboard of his machine. With a flourish, the lasers, one by one, changed colour and interweaved, blazing the tartan pattern of Clan Campbell in the sky to the intensifying cheers of the crowd.

"I'm Phineas Flynn-Fletcher, and we're the Baljeatles!" He turned to Mark. "Hit it!"

Mark pressed a switch, and then the house lights went off completely, ignoring the commands from the original tech booth. The crowd listened in awe as Ferb began with a powerful, maddeningly complex guitar solo. Most other guitarists wouldn't have a chance at playing such a riff, but Ferb's coordination and finger strength, coming from a life of building the impossible, allowed him to unleash the overpowering pattern. Then, the lights started to flash to the tempo of the song as Baljeet came in. Mark had quickly configured Baljeet's guitar to bass while Ferb had been playing his solo, and now the repeated power chords reverberated around the room, filling every heart with excitement.

And then, Ferb's guitar solo was matched by one from Buford's drums, both equally complex, both excellently played. Both solos had been well-crafted, by Ferb himself, to complement each other perfectly, like the two twisting cords of a helix. Now that both were playing, it was clear that both were following the same grand patterns, and for that, Phineas knew that the judges were impressed.

Irving's keyboard came in, playing a tune that was half serenade, half concerto; a dichotomy that nevertheless resulted in a tune that sounded exactly like what Phineas wanted. Then, Mark began to rapidly flick switches, commanding the laser display to rematerialise, ready to form each word that Phineas said; in short, subtitles cubed. Phineas knew it was time… and he hoped that Isabella was listening carefully.

_I always knew, ever since I was a kid_

_That you, dear, would become someone beautiful_

_But you've become more than just a pretty face_

_You're the one who makes my heart full_

Ferb led the other four into a rousing crescendo, all instruments beginning to build in volume.

_It's not your face or your body that I love_

_Though both are simply that of Aphrodite_

_It's your heart, darling, that makes me smile_

_And it's your kindness that comforts me!_

The five instrumentalists let loose, sheer power erupting from their instruments through the energy and volume of their playing.

_So I'll carry you, darling, I'll give you my love;_

_No matter how much, it'll be enough._

_I'll never leave you, I'll keep you safe;_

_I'll shelter you when the seas are rough._

_I'll rescue you, darling, when the darkness comes;_

_Even when we disagree, I still love you!_

_And you love me, that I can see;_

_Just know that I'll never, ever leave you!_

Isabella gasped in surprise, recognising the tune. _But…__ It can't be!_ she thought._ I made that song up in the shower!_

_I think that you've never realised it,_

_But I always thought that you were the best_

_So if you get jealous when I talk other girls_

_Just letting you know: There's no contest!_

_It's not your face or your body that I love_

_Though both are simply that of Aphrodite_

_It's your heart, darling, that makes me smile_

_And it's your kindness that comforts me!_

_So I'll carry you, darling, I'll give you my love;_

_No matter how much, it'll be enough._

_I'll never leave you, I'll keep you safe;_

_I'll shelter you when the seas are rough._

_I'll rescue you, darling, when the darkness comes;_

_Even when we disagree, my love will be true!_

_And you love me, that I can see;_

_Just know that I'll never, ever leave you!_

Isabella was grinning like an idiot at this point, but she was so happy that she didn't care. From the stage, Phineas saw her, saw her happy face and her dreamy look. _Just wait a little more, darling,_ he thought._ Just a little more. _And then he entered the bridge, and he threw everything he had into his voice.

_No matter what happens, I'll come for you_

_Fight off the demons 'cause that's what I do._

_Because I love you, I won't try to control your life_

_But I hope that one day- you'll become my wife!_

Isabella began crying, tears of joy that she didn't know she had in her. Phineas looked her in the eyes, and once more, sea met sky. He had to resist the urge to cry as well, though, as he moved into the chorus one last time.

_So I'll carry you, darling, I'll give you my love;_

_No matter how much, it'll be enough._

_I'll never leave you, I'll keep you safe;_

_I'll shelter you when the seas are rough._

_Of all girls, darling, you're by far the best!_

_Your beauty and grace are undoubtably stellar!_

_But greater still, is your brain and your goodness,_

_Those are the reasons I'll always love you... Isabella!_

And then, the song ended, amid raucous cheers from over a thousand throats. Isabella felt like she were in a daze, finding herself running out of her seat and towards the stage. Just as she go there, Ferb reached over the side and lifted her up with a single hand, and then she was on the stage and running into Phineas' arms. She wondered if there was a Guiness World Record for Greatest Kiss… because if there was, she and Phineas would probably have taken it.

* * *

Perry, having been brought to school by the boys, was watching with his binoculars from the now deserted seats where Isabella, Phineas, Ferb, and the rest had all sat. He watched the two kiss, and a grin appeared across. He knew that, despite Mark having sworn Isabella to secrecy, he would have to tell Phineas about the OWCA. He wasn't sure how he would react now, as a teenager. But he knew that whatever trouble Phineas might have accepting it… his master would have Ferb. He would have Mark. And he would have Isabella.

* * *

**Thank you to those of you who read the story and came this far. Please review!**


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